


this night, walk the dead...

by rosevestross



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: :))), AU, Abuse, Angst, Dan Howell - Freeform, Fluff, Happy Ending, High School, M/M, Mental Illness, NO ONE ASKED FOR THIS IM SORRY, Phan - Freeform, Phil Lester - Freeform, Teenagers, Violence, all that good stuff, but it all ends up okay, cursing, dont worry!!!!!, im also a shit writer so this might be really anticlimatic and boring, implied schizophrenia, it starts off kinda sad but i wanted to make it fluffy as possible, lowercase intended, this is so wild
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-10-13 17:36:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17492255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosevestross/pseuds/rosevestross
Summary: we can’t run. we can’t hide. we’ll be swept away by the tide. attempt to resist: nice try. we can’t help but to be terrified.





	1. chapter one

his lungs were on fucking  _ fire.  _

still crying, dan was desperately running as fast as he could. in the dim light of the setting sun, people peering out their windows could vaguely make out the figure of a skinny teenage boy struggling to breathe. 

he stopped at a streetlamp, leaning against it for support as he tried to catch his breath and wipe the wetness from his face. dan looked up and tried to recognize the street name, tried to figure out if he was still close to home. 

he was. 

still, he couldn’t seem to take a single step further. the bitter chill of autumn nipped at his jacket-less skin, and his breathing was staggered. it was time to give up. 

_ we can’t run. we can’t hide. we’ll be swept away by the tide. attempt to resist: nice try. we can’t help but to be terrified.  _

dan slumped against the base of the lamp, thoughts racing. his tears began to stop flowing, replaced with a sneering voice in his head. 

_ this is it for us, kid.  _

people walked by, decent enough to pretend they weren’t wondering what the hell was wrong with him. some were even kind enough to speed-walk dramatically past him, as if avoiding the problem completely would dissolve it, as if it would propel it into nonexistence. but dan knew better. 

he felt his swollen temples with shaking fingers. he definitely had bruises, and he definitely fucked up by leaving like that. he had to go back eventually, so what was the point? he couldn’t just leave home without anybody noticing. even if his dad had already passed out he was sure to summon dan the moment he came to, whether it be to demand something from him, or to just scream and hit him again. that was something he wasn’t ready to face just yet. not in this state. 

_ since when have we ever considered our well-being before making a decision? just go back.  _

dan was nauseous, in pain, emotional and just ready to fucking disappear. regardless, he recognized that avoiding his conflict wouldn’t make things better. in fact, it would only amplify the situation. 

with one last deep breath, he wiped his palms on his frayed jeans and stood himself up on shaking legs. people strolling by still regarded dan just as insignificant as the streetlamp beside him. 

he began to walk back. still shaken up, he struggled to keep his balance and was beginning to display an obvious limp, and could barely see the sidewalk due to the sun having already set. 

_ we got ourselves into this situation. stop bitching about it, idiot. anyway, aren’t we scared of the dark? we let it get this dark and didn’t bother to think about the godda- _

dan stumbled over the uneven concrete. he could feel himself falling, closed his eyes and braced for impact. 

except: 

it didn’t come. 


	2. chapter two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we know this kid, don't we?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the chapters will get longer i promise!!!! thank u for sticking with it, and for the wonderful comments

shocked by the comforting softness on which he had landed, dan almost didn’t want to open his eyes.

_all good things must come to an end._

so, he was forced to do it regardless: and upon opening his eyes, he was met with a pair of confused blue ones.

_we know this kid, don’t we? philip lester? he goes to school with us._

“shit…” dan muttered, attempting (but failing) to stand up on his own, avoiding eye contact with the boy who was holding him.

“no, no, just relax, okay? i got you, you're gonna pass out, mate.” phil didn't look annoyed, just a little worried.

“im sorry.”

“you look like death. for the love of god, please take a rest."

and in that moment, dan almost relaxed himself into phil’s arms, but jerked up with a sudden realization.

“y-you… no, you can't speak to anyone at school about this, do you understand how bad this could be-”

“take a _rest,_ i swear…”

_run run run run we can't trust him we can't trust him we have to run we have to!_

he tensed up with the prospect of this dilemma: sure, he was tired, and phil was warm, but he'd never spoken to this kid before and plus, who could he really believe anymore?

and with that, dan ran as fast as he could back to from where he came. he struggled to ignore the three-alarm fire in his chest, but still refused to think about phil, afraid to see the confusion and slight panic in his eyes once again.

he didn't want pity, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we stan an angsty teen author that projects their abuse into writing 😫😫😫😫😔✊🏽🅱️ a (longer) chapter is in progress. love always :)


	3. chapter three

philip stood motionless in the middle of frisch street, absolutely taken aback by what had just happened. he didn't know the boy's name, but they'd gone to the same school for a number of years and dear  _ god _ , he still had so many questions. why was he running? why was he so drastically injured? his mind was racing, but the boy had already taken off. 

there was nothing left for phil to do. he headed to the nearest bus stop, trying not to dwell any further on the encounter.

**

not too far away, daniel stepped into a dimly lit vestibule and mentally prepared himself for what he was about to encounter. 

_ breathing in. breathing out.  _

_ it’s time to go in.  _

hesitantly, he maneuvered his way around notoriously noisy floorboards and visibly rotting wood with the intention of keeping his father as far away as possible. he listened carefully for footsteps: for all dan knew, his dad could have drunk himself to death. 

as he moved further down the hallway, panic started to set into his chest. no sign of the old man anywhere. could he actually be- 

but of course, he was passed out in the middle of the bathroom floor. 

of fucking course. his dad was fucking passed out. what else did he expect, really? 

_ interesting. all that worrying, what for?  _

dan stood at the foot of the limp man while he tried to think through his options. slowly, he kneeled onto the floor and pressed two shaking fingers to the side of the man’s neck. there was a pulse, indeed. 

not knowing whether to be relieved or devastated about his discovery, dan stood up and proceeded to make his way up the stairs as fast as he could without making a sound. thinking about his shitty dad. thinking about the pain he was in. thinking about all the work he had to do if he actually wanted to pass this term. thinking about how someone had seen. 

_ someone had seen.  _

would the boy tell? no, he seemed too kind to give away secrets. philip lester was the kid that teachers trusted to help grade quizzes and all that shit… he wouldn’t tell. 

he contemplated this issue all evening, while he tended to his wounds and tried his damnedest not to wail in anguish. and still, something within him wondered… 

_ what’s the use in worrying about some kid you won’t speak to again?  _

**

phil wanted to speak to him. 

the entire bus ride home, he couldn’t rid his conscience of the boy that practically  _ collapsed  _ into his arms in pure exhaustion. maybe phil looked pensive, maybe he was giving off bad energy, because every bus patron that walked by him looked at him like they would rather sit next to a great white shark. and frankly, he was too preoccupied with other matters to care. 

he thought a lot about what to do. was there even anything  _ to  _ do? the boy had explicitly said not to tell anyone, but was that a good idea? 

phil wasn’t one to curse, but he could think of a few choice words to express the pressure of the situation. unless he was overthinking it, of course. was he overthinking it? he was overthinking it. 

these were the kind of moral dilemmas that frustrated him to no end. did he have the right to worry about a situation he didn’t know anything about? for all he knew, telling someone could put the boy in more danger- or, it  _ could  _ help him. 

christ. phil just wanted to  _ talk  _ to the boy, wanted to help him. he just didn’t think he was useful enough to a situation as dire-

phil looked out the window of the bus, only to realize he had missed his stop. reaching for his things and running to the driver, the dilemma running through his head would have to wait until later.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took forever sorry ive been having lots of health problems so this also isnt as long as i would have liked, im very sorry!   
> PSA: please always let a TRUSTED adult know if you or someone you know is living in fear or immediate danger!   
> comment with where you’d like to see this story go, what aspects you’d like to see elaborated on, what you thought was good, bad, etc.   
> love yall, stay safe :)


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